The higher American patriotism, on the other hand, combines

The philosopher and political thinker Herbert Croly, founder of The New Republic, once wrote: “The higher American patriotism, on the other hand, combines loyalty to historical tradition and precedent with the imaginative projection of an ideal national Promise.” These words rise like a beacon, for they remind us that true patriotism is not merely clinging to the past, nor is it only dreaming of the future—it is the noble weaving of both into a living vision. To love one’s country is to honor its history while striving toward its yet-unrealized ideals.

In Croly’s teaching, we find the recognition of tradition as the root of identity. A people without memory, without reverence for those who came before, are like a tree without soil—easily toppled, quickly withered. But he also warns that tradition alone is not enough. If a nation only looks backward, it becomes a relic, unable to rise to the challenges of new ages. Thus, Croly speaks of the imaginative projection of a national Promise—the dream that America, though imperfect, strives to embody liberty, justice, and equality in ever fuller measure. Patriotism, in its highest form, is this balance: loyalty to the heritage and faith in the destiny.

Consider the great example of Abraham Lincoln. In the midst of civil war, he did not discard tradition—he invoked the memory of the Founding Fathers, the sacred words of the Declaration of Independence, the precedent of unity and liberty. Yet he did not stop there. He cast before the people a vision of a “new birth of freedom,” an ideal promise that slavery would end, and that the Union would be more just and whole than ever before. Lincoln embodied Croly’s vision of higher patriotism: looking backward with reverence, and forward with imagination.

So too did the civil rights movement carry this spirit. Leaders such as Martin Luther King Jr. appealed to the Constitution and the founding documents—tradition and precedent—but they also spoke of the dream, the Promise yet to be fulfilled, that America would one day live out its creed of equality for all. Their patriotism was not the shallow kind that demanded silence, but the higher kind that demanded courage, rooted in history yet reaching toward destiny. They showed that to love one’s nation is not to say, “It is perfect,” but rather, “It can and must become better.”

Croly’s words reveal a truth that transcends America and belongs to all nations: a higher patriotism is not static, but dynamic. It honors ancestors without idolizing them, and it dares to imagine a future greater than the present. This kind of patriotism is not blind loyalty, but hopeful devotion. It requires both memory and vision, both gratitude and striving. Without memory, a nation is rootless; without vision, it is lifeless. Together, they form the beating heart of a people’s purpose.

Let the lesson be passed down: do not fall into the trap of believing patriotism means only clinging to the past, nor that it means abandoning it for some reckless utopia. The wise path is the union of both. Cherish your traditions, learn from your precedents, but let them guide you forward, not chain you backward. Take inspiration from your forebears, but dare to project your own light into the future. In this balance lies true loyalty, and in this loyalty lies endurance.

Practically, live this teaching by studying the history of your nation with reverence, but not with blindness. Ask what lessons it teaches, both noble and tragic. Then, with courage, imagine the Promise yet unrealized in your time—whether justice, equality, peace, or renewal—and work to bring it forth. Teach your children not only what has been achieved, but what remains undone. For the highest patriotism is not simply to inherit a legacy, but to expand it, to hand to future generations a nation truer to its promise than you found it.

Thus, Croly’s wisdom resounds as if spoken from the scrolls of the ancients: the higher patriotism binds past and future together. To be loyal is to walk with your ancestors while lifting your eyes to horizons they could only imagine. This is the heroic calling of every citizen: to be both guardian of tradition and builder of promise. In this balance, a nation becomes eternal.